I hated San Jose.

It was hard to hate a place I’ve never been, but Anthony spent a great deal of time putting out the fires set by the Atwoods and Bennetts. His seven AM meeting turned into a four-day trip, completely isolated so far north I could only Skype and hope for a few naughty words.

But he sent a music box as an apology. A beautiful porcelain trinket that played Bach when it opened.

Not the song on my tattoo, but I loved it nonetheless.

And those were the hazy emotions that began to scare me. Lust and confusion were constant companions, tucked in my purse next to my cell and the death throes of my wallet.

But something else lingered now too. A new feeling that surged through me when I thought of Anthony. I’d hoped it was just awe, my amazement that a person could be so calm, authoritative, and confident.

Who was I kidding? I knew the truth. But I was already his experiment. I wouldn’t complicate our relationship any further.

I met him after his trip at the fanciest Italian restaurant in the city. The restaurant booth wasn’t as intimate as my apartment, but that meant nothing to Anthony. One wrong word, and he’d toss me over the table and have his way with me before they brought the main course. Rolling in the tiramisu sounded fun, but eating it was far more exciting.

Anthony ordered too much food and insisted I try anything I wanted. Payday wasn’t until later in the week, so I stuffed my cheeks full of carbs like a proper broke little chipmunk. Then I fussed so much over the linguine that he gave the restaurant his information with a standing order to deliver me dinner whenever I called—all charged to his account.

I’d kept my cool, but a burden for the week lifted. I didn’t think he’d understand.

“What’s your schedule this week?” Anthony asked once we returned to the Mercedes. He didn’t start the car. I eyed him in the dark.

“I open the café Monday through Friday, sir. Why?”

He brushed a finger against my shoulder. The touch went straight to my head—way more potent than any wine I had with my pasta.

“So I know when I’m taking you to dinner next.”

I grinned. “A girl could get used to this.”

He started the car. “I’ll be in meetings through Wednesday. I’ll schedule a massage for you that night after work. Simone’s recommendation.”

“You don’t have to do that, sir.”

“Thank you, sir.” Anthony’s hand curled over the wheel. “I’m well aware of what I can and can’t do, Morgan. Apparently, you haven’t learned that lesson yet.”

“Sorry, sir. I’m not used to being spoiled.”

“I’m going to be demanding of you,” he warned. “Take the rewards when you get them.”

“But you choose when and where the rewards are?”

“Yes.”

“And you choose when we go out and where we go?”

“You’re my pet. I know what’s best for you.”

It was a good thing I dropped out of college. Our campus had three different women’s lib clubs that would smother me under a ton of tampons for even entertaining such a thought.

Screw them. I liked what he said. He knew what was best for me.

It was about time someone did.

I wasn’t making the greatest decisions lately. And Anthony—with his pimped-out Mercedes, two-story penthouse, and billion-dollar clients—was a good person to emulate.

A little shiver galloped over my spine. I liked the thought of offering him control. After years of rehearsals and recitals and school and schedules and work, I thought life couldn’t get more demanding. Then came the depleting bank account and a fistful of bills. I hated it. I’d lived paycheck to paycheck with no real life goal except to make it home every night so I could curl under the covers and avoid Facebook with my graduated friends and their wedding announcements.

But Anthony…I liked. The sex I liked. Even his power games I was beginning to enjoy. My body ached every minute he was gone and overwhelmed me with molten lust now that he was within my sight.

A man like him? Probably never had a single moment in his thirty-four years where he questioned any of his decisions. I wanted that almost as much as I wanted him.

And if that relief came from giving up what measly control I had over my life, so be it.

“What are you thinking, pet?” Anthony said. He pulled into traffic and could only glance over while I picked at the seatbelt.

“I want to go to Duchess, sir.”

He was as surprised by the statement as I was. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Simone’s planned a scene with Genn. It might be intense.”

I swallowed. Simone and Scene. Two words I shuddered to hear in combination. But I steeled myself. Duchess was my Everest. I’d met Anthony at the bottom, got spanked at the base camp, and let myself get fucked in front of the other climbers. If I wanted to crest that summit, I’d have to conquer the rest of what Duchess could offer.

“I want to go, sir.”

Anthony didn’t need to turn the car around. Either he exhibited psychic powers, or he already knew where my curiosity would lead me. The heat coiled inside me. Not embarrassed.

Relieved.

Maybe he did know what was best for me.

But the confidence evaporated the instant I stepped into Duchess.

Simone shared Anthony’s ability to draw a crowd, though the shrieking, naked Genn she’d tethered to some sort of Inquisition-inspired X-shaped contraption attracted most of the attention.

Spread-eagle and completely helpless, Genn watched with tears in her eyes as Simone swished a black cane through the air. Thick swatches of darkness blossomed over her skin, from her breasts to her feet. Apparently, we’d missed the warm up.

Thin, red welts swelled over her body. Genn’s body hung limp over the X. She panted through a gag in her mouth. Simone struck her thighs with the rod. The gag did little to muffle her scream.

“Well…look who decided to join us.” Simone ceased her torment as we entered the room. Anthony greeted the others, and Simone took out her irritation on her helpless submissive. “Anthony, you’ve interrupted us. Now I’ve lost my place…I’ll have to start over from the beginning.”

Genn sobbed. Simone didn’t need to silence her. Reed stood just off to her side, observing the chaos with crossed arms.

Learning the scene?

“Easy there, Genn…” Reed’s dimple might have soothed Genn if he hadn’t ended his kiss with a wink. “Hit her again, Simone.”

Simone grinned. “My pleasure.”

That was the truth.

Simone didn’t look evil, but I wished I stuffed a flask of holy water in my purse for an extra layer of defense against the demon. She was a beautiful woman—desire personified in a tight skirt and red corset—but did I envy her…or want her?

Anthony probably knew, but hell if I dared to ask him.

“What do you think, pet?” Anthony whispered, as if his soft words would disrupt Genn’s cries. He didn’t force me deeper into the room, and for that, I’d be forever grateful.

“That looks…” I flinched as the crop cracked against her thighs. “Painful, sir.”

“Extremely.”

Genn’s agony wasn’t like Shannon’s punishment or my little spanking. This was pure sadism. Simone tortured her while a crowd of people watched her gasp and struggle and even cry.

And Reed did nothing except take the crop from Simone to learn just how to perfectly slice her delicate breasts, stomach, and hips.

Anthony was friends with these people.

“What do you say, Anthony?” Reed gestured with the crop, nearly smacking Simone. She plucked the weapon out of his hands with a frown. “We can restart if you’d like.”

Anthony looked at me.

Like I was curious enough to watch them beat her to a pulp.

Genn breathed heavily, each inhale wracking her body as she struggled against the restraints holding her arms and legs. Everything about the position looked painful and raw.

Wouldn’t she bruise in the morning? Would she show the marks off? Wear them like a badge of honor?

Anthony addressed only Simone. “Five more.”

She sighed. “You’re such a softy.”

“Someone needs to balance you out.”

Five more?

I didn’t know who’d faint first—me or Genn.

Simone rubbed a hand over the last imprint she’d left. A straight, white line puffed over Genn’s breasts, an inch from her nipples. She murmured something as Simone’s fingernails raked over the tender skin.

Then crack!

The cane smacked against her thigh, vertically. It didn’t look as harsh as the other strikes, but the welt rose from her hip to her knee. A second hit mirrored the first, stretching the welt along her other leg. Genn wavered on her feet, but Reed reached out, gripping her throat and hoisting her back upright.

This was intense.

Far more cruel and painful than anything Anthony had tried with me.

But I hadn’t been with Anthony for long, and his previous games offered me no clue to his real desires. Sushi was pleasant, the pool was a head-game and a half, but even his spanking was accompanied by his wonderfully skilled fingers.

How dark did his fetishes go?

He, like everyone else in the room, enjoyed watching Genn twist and shriek as the cane cut through the air and cracked against the soft mound between her legs, bare and exposed.

Simone tossed the cane down and accepted a glass of champagne from Shannon. Also naked.

I shifted my gaze from the shuddering Genn to the rest of the audience.

Shannon, Mariah, and the other girls I didn’t know as well—Megan, Kristin, and Shelly—were all very naked. Mostly. They wore collars. Some thick and hardcore with buckles and leashes. Others demure and pretty, hardly more than necklaces. Anthony brushed a lock of my hair behind my ear. His whisper clenched my belly.

“It isn’t fair to the other girls if you stay clothed, is it, pet?”

I took an unsteady breath. This was the beginning of Everest, the pebbles in my boot before I started climbing. I loved that Anthony wanted to see me without clothes, but I hated the thought of the others seeing me. Other men, other women, and Simone with her devil cane.

“No,” I agreed. “It isn’t fair.”

I welcomed his hands on my sides. His palms were huge, pawing my torso. I cautiously flicked my eyes up to his.

He said he knew what was best for me.

It was time to put that theory to the test.

I held his gaze as he flicked the straps of my dress over my arms. He needed only to tug to pull the soft, cotton material down. The dress pooled at my feet. I swallowed. Most of the audience focused on Genn and her panting. Simone offered her a sip of water. She greedily guzzled from a straw. My bra fell away next.

Simone was the first to see.

Her smile was cold enough to tighten my nipples into painful little buds.

I had tried to not tremble like a leaf caught in a windstorm. I failed. Spectacularly.

Anthony said nothing as I shimmied from my panties. He handed the bundle to a passing waitress. I didn’t have time to argue. His lips pressed against my bare shoulder. A whisper.

“Very good, pet.”

I whimpered as his fingers stroked right between my legs. No prelude. No warning.

And no way to hide how drenched I was.

My God. I was wet?

How was that even possible?

Genn had been beaten in front of me. Not little love taps. Straight up Tower of London freaky levels of torment. And now, I was as naked as she was. Just as vulnerable.

If Anthony wanted, he might have strung me up next. Left me bound and spread for everyone to see and watch and hurt.

My knees weakened. I twisted away before his fingers could continue an assault on the betraying slit between my legs.

Wrong. Move.

Anthony scowled and spun me so my back collided with his chest. One arm restrained me against his body. The other stretched across me. His fingers forced their way over my pussy.

One, two, three strokes against my clit before they were buried inside me. I gasped, stretched tight by his fingers, but he pulled out. Another three circles before he nudged inside.

“Don’t make a sound,” Anthony growled in my ear. “It’d be rude to interrupt.”

I’d have bitten off my tongue if he demanded it. I gripped his arms, bucking against his hold. This wasn’t a gentle caress, and my body didn’t need it to be. I was wet enough to let him do whatever he wanted. To be tossed over a table or taken on the ground.

It didn’t matter so long as that part of me was filled by some part of him.

Simone jerked the water away from Genn and tucked the ball-gag into her mouth. Her slap to Genn’s cheek was cruel, but so was the quick kiss to the afflicted area. Her hips pressed towards Simone. Mine grinded into Anthony.

“Mariah.” Simone snapped her fingers, and the slave obediently bolted to her side.

Mariah knelt at her feet, wiggling a flushed pink behind. Apparently, Nate had already played with her as well. Simone grabbed a fistful of her raven hair and pulled her forward, stuffing her face between Genn’s thighs.

“Mariah, you have three minutes to make her cum or you’re next on the rack,” Simone ordered.

Nate leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. “Don’t give her a choice, Simone. If you let her, she’ll finish Genn with enough time to tie herself up.”

Mariah’s giggle muffled against Genn’s glistening folds. The beaten and bruised slave groaned, offering her hips. She ground against Mariah’s mouth.

Both of them moaned.

Whoa.

This was something I hadn’t expected, but I felt stupid for not anticipating it.

Some of the girls at college had kissed each other at fraternity parties to get the guys riled up. Of course, I was too busy hanging with the super cool kids from the music lab to experiment with any part of my woefully naïve sexuality.

I’d never thought about touching a woman…that way. Especially not now, not when I found someone like Anthony who held me on a razor’s edge of orgasm with only a few possessive circles over my clit.

Mariah worked diligently, feasting upon Genn, slurping so enthusiastically I wondered how Nate and Reed weren’t enraged with jealousy. I couldn’t see what she was doing from where I stood, but I had a pretty good idea of how it worked. Genn hardly had the strength to rock her head. Her body tensed and sweated and flushed, and Mariah eagerly worked between her legs.

Lapping. Kissing. Savoring.

“What do you think, pet?” Anthony’s fingers dipped inside me.

My voice turned breathless with honesty and heat. “I have no idea, sir.”

“Would you like to have a taste?”

I stilled. He felt it. He slipped out, offering reassuring, soft pats to my clit.

“Eventually, pet. You’ll look beautiful serving the other girls.”

Well when he put it that way. I was a sucker for compliments.

The trembling warmth radiating from my pussy helped too.

I bit my lip to stop from whimpering. He liked the thought of me submissive to everyone. I only wished it didn’t come so easily. Though I wasn’t the one strapped to the X—naked, beaten, and moaning as another woman suckled between my legs—my inexperience made me just as vulnerable.

Just as dependent upon their mercy.

My hands tightened over Anthony, and I wiggled against his fingers. Deeper. Harder. More.

Genn tugged at her restraints. Her body arched, and Mariah pressed further between her legs. Her hands slapped the welts on her thighs. Genn yelped, her shriek shifting from panicking pain to the surrender of a blistering orgasm.

Mine wasn’t far behind. Even in the roomful of people, my body screamed for Anthony. I held my breath and rested against his chest.

Who needed Simone? A wave of fire whipped me from head to toe.

Without warning, Anthony removed his fingers and pulled away. His arms prevented me from collapsing to the floor.

“Good girl, Mariah.” Simone jerked her away from the whimpering Genn.

Mariah grinned and eagerly accepted a kiss from her mistress and a high-five from Reed before scampering back to Nate.

Simone returned her attention to the absolutely spent Genn. She snapped a finger in front of her face, but the poor girl was unable to shake her head.

And, just like that, Simone’s fun was over. She sighed.

“Reed, she’s all yours.”

Reed ran a hand over the raised welts and purplish marks staining Genn’s body. He appraised the injuries. Slapped the welts. Twisted a swollen nipple to earn her squeal.

“Can’t thank you enough, Simone,” Reed said.

“Likewise.”

And that was it.

Simone didn’t untie Genn, and neither did Reed. He tossed the gag from her mouth and demanded a kiss before letting her sip from a water bottle. He released some of the ropes but left her bound to the stake by the chain around her waist.

The lights came up, and the conversations resumed, laughing and chatty. Twenty or so people in the room discussed the scene with smiles. They parted to go to the restrooms and bar like it was the intermission of a musical.

“You’re shaking, pet.”

Anthony had the nerve to wrap his arms around my waist again. His fingers drifted so achingly close to my pussy. I shifted. He diligently avoided any contact with any sensitive buttons. I chilled and sweated and hurt.

“Pretty sure I’m dying, sir.”

“Do you want to come?”

My voice steeled. “Don’t you?”

“Manners, pet.” He held me tighter. I backed into something hard and wonderful. “I have plans for you.”

I trembled, but my body wetted more each time he spoke. He took my hand and led me through Duchess. I averted my eyes as we passed more than a few couples I recognized from my time on the table. The women were in various stages of undress but coped with the attention far better than me.

Still, it was a good chance to mimic some of Anthony’s signature confidence. Fake it till I made it…

Or humiliated myself in new and inventive ways.

Anthony took me to the bar. He pulled out a chair, ordered a gin and tonic and my Shirley Temple, and sat.

Then he unbuckled his pants.

Oh.

My belly clenched. My own wetness had spread over my thighs.

Embarrassing? Yes.

But he knew what he did to me.

I licked my lips, anticipating what came next. My last blowjob had ended well, and the thought of serving him again teased every muscle within me.

He’d teach me how he liked it. Right here. In front of the club. I shivered.

He beckoned me closer, pulling me over his lap. I straddled him and stole a quick kiss. He’d pulled his hair into the half-ponytail, but the dark ends still framed his face. He stared through me, and I wondered if every submissive was as intimidated and amazed by her dom as me.

“Four days is too long without my pet.” His growl rumbled in my tummy. “Fuck me. Now.”

Fuck him?

I couldn’t say I wasn’t tempted. The past four days had been my own strapped-to-an-X-Rack torture. But I hadn’t thought we’d be doing…that again. Here.

In front of everyone.

Anthony worked quickly, removing his throbbing cock from his pants and shifting me closer. His eyes blazed into mine with a distinct order.

Except I was a tangle of arms, legs, and uncertain momentum. Plus…I looked ridiculous.

The chair sat too high, and my toes only just brushed the floor if I leaned to one side. I scooted up on his legs. His cock slapped against my belly. I tried to ignore how big it looked compared to my torso. I’d be the first girl shish-kabobed in Duchess.

Now what?

Genn’s scene had broken up, and music pumped from the dance floor. A few couples approached the bar, ordering their drinks so close to us I counted the tinking of ice in their drinks and how many swirls the bartender stirred.

Anthony’s hands rubbed over my back before slapping on my ass. I yelped.

“I said now, pet.”

I understood his order, and I wanted to please him…but we’d have more luck if he tossed me IKEA furniture to build with no instructions.

I was supposed to fuck him? On top?

But he was the dominant one, and I was the pet to be thrown across the table and pounded for his pleasure.

He stroked a thumb over my cheek. His eyes darkened as the seconds passed. His hand slipped downwards, fingers curling over my neck. He squeezed.

Holy hell.

“Do I need to borrow Simone’s cane?” he asked.

The pressure eased. He hadn’t hurt me, but my voice squeaked. “No, sir.”

“Then sit on my cock.”

I wished I hadn’t pouted. “How?”

“How?” He laughed, crossing his arms behind his head. “You know how the parts work. Figure it out, little girl. Pleasure me with your sweet little pussy.”

He wasn’t going to help me.

My breathing wavered. Now I understood.

Anyone could be led around the club, tossed onto the tables and ravaged by a sexier, dominating man. But he wanted absolute submission. And that meant willingly fucking him back. Accepting him into my body. Impaling myself on his thickness.

My body heated. Our first experience had been mortifying, but every night since then I’d fantasized about it again and again until my wrist started to ache. I guessed I’d assumed all of our moments together would be like the first time.

Slow. Erotic. Taken in a darkened room with a quiet audience.

That I could handle.

But this wasn’t the gentle, sensual experience we had before. This was everything he’d promised that day in the pool. He’d said he wanted to fuck me at the bar where everyone would need to reach over my head to get their drinks. Anthony was a man of his word.

Every time I powered through a boundary, I smacked face first into another one.

Anthony ignored me. Though I sat on his lap, my legs spread with his cock twitching against my skin, he did nothing to help. I looked over my shoulder. Big mistake. The room was now full of people. Shannon and Mariah whispered in a corner. A couple kissed against a wall.

And Simone sipped from a champagne glass, watching as I struggled against my own panic.

My hand dug into Anthony’s shirt, finding his shoulder under the layers of clothing.

Why did he have to be dressed? Skin on skin might would have soothed some of my worry.

His muscles twitched under my touch. For as stoic and inattentive as he appeared, he couldn’t hide the effect I had on him. His cock burned my skin, pulsing and hot against me.

He wanted me. I wanted him.

I had no idea why the head-game bullied me the way it did.

I reached down and lifted myself up as awkwardly as the tall chair permitted. His length twitched at my touch, and I curled my hand around him as best I could. The head rubbed against my slickness—appallingly wet for how my body trembled.

I sucked in a breath and forced my body down on top of him.

Immediately my breath released in a wince.

Taking him on top was harder than relaxing on my back. My legs slipped down, and his cock wedged inside me, halfway between stuck piglet and square peg in a round hole.

I hissed and pulled up. My tippy-toes failed me, and the only way I could raise my tush any more was to awkwardly climb up and over Anthony.

Shannon laughed from across the room. Everything clenched, including the part of me still stretched by the wide head of his cock.

“Easy, pet…” A single, compassionate whisper. “Take your time. That’s a lot of cock and so little of you.”

I shuddered, leaning forward and allowing gravity to work its magic and slowly pierce me open.

Each inch prompted a new whimper from my lips, alternating between disbelief, pleasure, and pure claustrophobia. Goosebumps prickled over my body, pooling with the heat between my legs.

I wiggled as he filled me, the awkward tugs disappearing as he cut through me like smoothed butter. It took long, long enough for everyone in the bar to realize just how inexperienced I was, but I bottomed out, stuffed to the brim, hovering over the chair.

My breathing shallowed, broken with shocked gasps. I hadn’t felt anything this deep before. My insides quivered and shook around him, and each flinching movement dragged my clit along the roughness of his pants.

I groaned.

This was submission. Not who was watching or how hard someone was hitting. This. His demanding cock stretching my insides, my muscles trembling and clenching him, searching for relief and begging for more, deeper, harder.

I surrendered to it. Welcomed him as deep as he could go. Promised him every part of me and more. My body cried for movement. To be spread and taken and filled. His breath caught. He needed to be pleasured too.

But taking him was hard enough. I arched, and he pushed in deeper. That wasn’t the direction that’d offer either of us relief. I tightened around the entirety of him and mewed. My eyes found his.

“He’s here for ten minutes, and already he’s buried in her.” Thomas hooted from behind us. “Anthony, give the girl a minute to order a drink.”

Anthony enjoyed the attention. He smiled at me, wicked. “Can’t you tell? I’m at her mercy.”

Panic seized me. I tensed. We both groaned.

Nate leaned over the bar, ordering a long island iced tea for Mariah. His eyes met mine before sliding down, studying my breasts, my navel, and finally lowering to my pussy, the obscene display of Anthony’s girth impaling me. Light into dark. Pale into a contrasting rich mocha.

I tried to hide. Anthony grabbed my hips. Shifted me backwards and let his friend see every fold and nook stretching so wide around his throbbing beast.

“Got a safe word, Anthony?” Nate asked.

“I’ll tough it out.”

“Risky behavior. Go on, sweetheart. Make him regret it.”

Getting fucked in public was expected from Anthony.

Audience participation was not previously discussed.

Anthony’s fingers tickled my spine. He drew me back to him, letting me rest on his chest for a moment to breathe. It didn’t do much, not when I was absolutely imbedded by him, but the simple closeness he offered soothed my trembling.

Everyone watching could see my back, my curves, his cock buried in me.

My ass.

They especially liked my bottom and said so loudly and without shame.

Anthony fingers danced along my spine, generating shivers and tickling arches of burning electricity that sizzled between us. I leaned in, nibbling against him for a kiss.

“Fuck yourself, pet.”

This wasn’t fair. I shifted my hips and succeeded in only a short, frustratingly small movement. I did it again, but he didn’t slide easily inside me. I knew it wasn’t right, but it was all I had. I ground my pelvis against him, rocking back and forth. It wasn’t what he wanted, even if it did fill me with delicious shivers.

Anthony gave me nothing. I wound my hands into his shirt and wobbled.

I knew she approached by the prickling hair on my neck. Simone’s voice cut through the room.

“For Christ’s sake, fuck him, Morgan.”

The humiliation tightened everything in me. Anthony grunted, a little too tight for both of us. I tucked as close to him as I could get, but it was too late.

Everyone turned to watch Simone chastise me.

“Give him a little bounce or something.” Simone circled us, each crack of her heels causing me to flinch. “He’s been stuck working for four days straight. Fuck him.”

Like that was going to happen now.

I stretched my legs out as far as I could, but my toes couldn’t offer the leverage I needed to rise over his body. I kicked around, finding the wooden rail between the chair legs. My toes curled around it and I managed a bit of height before my hip locked up, and I flailed down.

Uncoordinated was an understatement, and concerto teased on my tongue.

Having sex in front of an audience nearly broke me. Humiliating myself by not having sex in front of the same people would kill me.

“She’s learning.” My knight in shining armor fought the dragon for me. “She hasn’t fucked on top before.”

“No wonder.”

“You need to be gentle with her.”

“I need to teach her how to please you.”

I squealed as Simone grabbed my hair. She plucked me off him, and my feet dropped like lead against the ground. A quick readjustment, and, with both their assistance, I straddled him once more. His hand brushed my pussy only to show Simone the slickness on his fingers.

“Horny little thing…” Simone laughed. “You should be able to slip right into that tiny little pussy, so wet and hot. Right, Morgan?”

I couldn’t take much more of this.

I fell limp against him. Anthony held me still. Simone positioned my legs, bending them at the knees and resting them over his thighs. The little bit of height helped, but I still froze, mortified as she stroked Anthony’s cock for me and guided him to my wetness.

“Be a good girl now…” Simone’s breath drew shivers over my skin. “Let him inside that beautiful little slit.”

This time, he fit in me easier than before, sliding within me so smoothly that it earned an appreciative murmur from the crowd. His hands gripped my sides as a panicked tremor passed through my body.

“See?” Simone cooed from behind me. “Use him for balance. Look how easy. All you need is a bit of leverage and you can impale yourself on that monster cock until you come.”

Her hands joined his.

Oh God.

One little motion, and Simone had sandwiched me between them, smothered between his sharp scent and her sweetness.

Why did this turn me on?

It was wrong and wicked and reprehensible, and my insides clenched on Anthony’s cock for every inch I could grab.

I didn’t think. I didn’t fight. I let both Anthony and Simone guide my body as they wished.

Simone pulled me up, Anthony pushed me down. Again and again. Slowly at first, allowing me to adjust, forcing me open. Then a little faster. I could take more. Longer strokes. Harder pulses.

But she didn’t help. Her hands tightened on my waist, and she slammed me upon Anthony, using my body to please him herself. She knew what he liked, how he preferred his fucking, what would tease him the most.

She used me to deliver that pleasure.

It was mortifying. Humbling.

Enthralling.

“How’s she feel, darling?” Simone murmured.

Anthony stared into her eyes. “Perfect, love.”

“She’s being such a good sheath for your cock. A lovely little fuck toy.”

“I’m a lucky man.”

“Luckier now that I can teach her what you need.”

I groaned as Simone released me. She parted from us, and I took control, shutting my eyes as the pleasure tore through me and my body crept closer to the abyss of self-loathing and pride. My muscles liquefied, and the world crashed away into absolute bliss as Anthony’s length thrust long and hard inside me.

“There you go!” Simone spoke to the crowded room. “How about some encouragement for our little cowgirl?”

The room cheered, and Anthony grinned. His hands gripped my hips almost too tightly. His eyes focused on mine, and he pulled me close, flicking his tongue against mine.

“That’s perfect, pet,” he whispered. “Do what comes naturally.”

It was as if lightning had struck my body. My vision flickered and faded, and every part of me coiled tight.

His praise was all I needed, the only sound capable of rendering me into a helpless fragment of reason and self-control.

I collapsed over him and let myself go. The orgasm crashed through me, and I squealed, my body splitting over his length until I was certain I’d been torn in two.

The applause and cheers of the audience forced half a dozen aftershocks through me, and I hid against chest, hiding my face in his shoulder.

Anthony tugged me upright. His eyes flicked behind me. I wavered, crushed under my own excitement and pinned on top of him. He wound his hand in my hair.

“Don’t look away from me,” he ordered. “Do you understand, pet?”

I didn’t have a chance to respond.

The whistle sang in the air, but it didn’t register until the crack assaulted my back.

The thin cane sliced against me, and a welt instantly rose against my skin.

My vision cascaded in blinding white. My pleasure faded, morphed into the sharp, unapologetic sting of her hit. Anthony held me tight, binding me in place for the next strike.

“Don’t stop now, pet.” Simone coo’ed, cane in hand. “Not when you’ve finally figured it out.”

The cane zipped against the fleshiest part of my ass. The pain twisted, concentrated and severe, a stricter, more effective bite than the slap of a hand. I squealed, collapsing against Anthony.

He rubbed the welt, but the gentle massage didn’t soothe the injury. He pinched, hard. My hands dug into his shoulders, but his gaze struck me harder than any of Simone’s discipline. I’d stopped fucking him. The cane lashed out once more. I cried out, but I understood.

They didn’t want me to stop.

I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and prepared for the next strike. I didn’t need to wait long. I sunk down, enveloping his entire length. Simone hit again. I tensed and yelped. Anthony’s growl warned me for the last time. Whoops. I’d accidentally looked away from him.

I snapped my gaze to him, blinking away the quick tears. His expression darkened, haunted by lust and tortured by his own restraint. I’d be afraid if my body hadn’t turned molten around him.

Another strike. I cried out for him. He groaned. His hands tightened over my body, relishing my involuntary shivers and reaction to the sharp, stinging pain. Every squeeze of his fingers burned my blood hotter. His hips pushed up higher, and my core quivered in delight.

The cane lashed out, catching my lower back. I arched. Anthony seized my lips before my shriek could echo over the club.

My skin burned. Arousal and pain coiled through me, warring over every tender and abused area. Each lash drove me forward onto Anthony’s lap. I hugged him, abandoning the pretense I had at staying quiet. It was impossible.

The cane tortured me with stinging, piercing cracks. As much as I fought to concentrate on Anthony, my body could only prepare for the next lash. I panicked and gasped until Anthony moved under me. One delicious thrust of his cock, pushing deep through my tension and wetness, and I was undone.

The sting of the cane blended with the harshness of his stroke. The radiating bite fizzled into a surge of pleasure. I whimpered. The hazy intensity overwhelmed my senses as Simone’s next five bursts welted my back and simmered within my tummy.

She purred behind us. “Careful, Anthony. I think you’ve discovered a little masochist.”

I arched as a harder blow caught under my shoulder blades. The pain stole my breath, and I went still.

Anthony refused to stop. He seized my body, easily picking me up only to slam me down along his hardening length. His jaw set in a hard line, and I surrendered to the need coursing through his veins.

I ignored the cheering of the crowds, Thomas’s appraisal of my welted ass and Mariah’s admiration about my wetness. My only concern was his pleasure. The slicing maul of the cane was simply another distraction, a test for me to ignore so I could concentrate on his needs, desires, and ultimate orgasm.

My moans shrilled. It encouraged him. Every thought, every breath, every rocking pulse against my chest beat for him. His muscles tightened with mine, and I hid my face in his shoulder, crying against his lips and tongue and every part of him I could kiss.

It took only three hard thrusts, and we were lost.

His heat flooded me. I cried out as the cane cracked against me three more times, crisscrossing hard welts over my back.

As I screamed, Anthony filled me with cum.

I loved it. Loved every second of his orgasm and strength and abandon. The last strike of the cane swiped too hard. I shouted, begging him to protect me. Anthony stopped Simone before she could wind up again and frighten me from my bliss.

I couldn’t move. I could hardly breathe.

Everything was Anthony. The sharp scent. His rough suit. The pulsing, quivering length I held inside me.

He let me rest, welcomed me to his chest. Our impromptu show entertained the crowd. They might have watched, but this was my moment.

My Anthony.

“What are you thinking, pet?” he whispered. “How did that feel?”

I snuggled against him, triaging my wounded pride and savoring my newfound identity.

“Natural, sir.”